Extreme Golfing
by elsbian
Summary: Our loveable doctors spend the day golfing, but there is a slight twist. Warning, includes Foreman death and Cameron bashing, but that's good, right? Huddy, Chameron, Kudley.


**Whey! This is a quite a long fun fic I wrote after having a conversation with one of my friends. She misread one thing I typed, and one thing led to another and I ended up writing this. It was something along the lines of me saying 'STOP HITTING CAPS' and she thought I'd said 'STOP HITTING CATS', so yeah... Anyway, this involves Foreman-bashing and Cameron-bashing, so it's good. Mmkays? Also, many thanks to Rev for helping me with the dialogue in this fic! :D**

**Extreme Golfing**

It was late in the afternoon, and the diagnostics department (House, Kutner, Taub, Thirteen, Cameron, Chase and Foreman) and Wilson and Cuddy were all out golfing. They had all put money together to rent out the entire golf course for the day, so they didn't have to worry about other people getting in the way.

The sun towered over them as the group of people had split up into different groups. House was helping Cuddy with her swing on one of the holes, as she continually missed every shot and as a result was getting frustrated.

Wilson was with Cameron and Chase, the newlyweds. It was sweet to watch them laugh and play golf together – he found it somewhat relaxing watching two people so at peace with each other.

Thirteen and Kutner were watching everybody from a distance while they drank their Cokes. They had been golfing five minutes beforehand, but Kutner had shyly asked if Thirteen would like to grab drinks and sit on the green, an offer which she had happily accepted just to get away from Foreman.

Oh yes, and Foreman of course – who could forget him? He was collecting the 'balls' for everybody else, including going to get them and then bringing them back. He hadn't been given a golf-buggy either, so he was forced to run by Taub, who _was_ given a golf-buggy specifically so that he could drive after Foreman and threaten to run him over if he didn't run faster. Needless to say, it was not Foreman's best day.

And of course, then there were the cats. They were not innocent creatures roaming the golf green; it was much worse than that. This was something more extreme than anything else – extreme _cat_ golfing, that is.

The sport of cat golfing had not been around for long, it had been founded by two crazy ass teenagers that were entertained by the idea and couldn't help but get everybody else into it too (they were English, so what do you expect?).

Anyway, the sport had spread from England, where animal cruelty was highly popular amongst upper-class citizens (maybe you've heard of fox-hunting too?), to the USA, and then to the rest of the world.

That's right – two English girls created the extreme sport of cat golfing, bet you didn't know that, eh? I bet you also didn't know that somebody amongst the group had a severe cat-allergy, and was therefore having trouble reaching his or her top form.

Any guesses as to who it is with the cat allergy? Here's a hint: he's big. He's black. He's a bit of a slag, yes that's right – it's Foreman. Now, the group of doctors were completely unaware of this sickness – they weren't that cruel, unless it was Foreman of course. But as it was, they didn't know he was allergic to cats and were therefore not responsible for any death or allergic reactions that occurred throughout the day. Unless Foreman sued, but he wouldn't – he was too scared that Cuddy might actually kill him.

Before we continue with the story, I would like to point out that no Foremans were harmed in the process of this story. Unfortunately.

Now, as House and Cuddy were the only two people playing properly at this time, it was somewhat stress relieving for Foreman, who now had less cats to bring back, and was therefore less at risk for a possibly fatal allergic reaction.

House stood behind Cuddy, holding her hands in the right places and doing a couple of practice swings so she could get used to it – she was improving… just very slowly.

"I can do it on my own." Cuddy pointed out as she successfully managed to swing the golf club, with the help of House of course.

"No you can't – last time you hit Foreman, and he was on the other side of the green."

"My hands were sweaty because you keep putting so much pressure on me!" Cuddy protested. "I didn't mean to let go of the club!"

"Don't worry about it – it's only Foreman." House whispered loudly, hoping that Foreman (who was standing only a few yards away) could hear.

Cuddy smirked as once again the golf club swung perfectly.

"I think I can do it on my own now," she said happily, very proud of herself for getting so good, even if House was still helping her.

"Ok, just try not to waste the cats." House insisted.

"Ok. Can you set it up for me?" She requested, practicing the swing again now that House was no longer helping.

"Foreman – set it up." House ordered, loving having so much control over the obedient Foreman.

"Yes, House," Foreman mumbled pathetically, cursing under his breath as he walked over to the sack of cats.

House smirked triumphantly as Foreman pulled a good-quality tabby-cat out of the bag.

"Is this one ok, House?" Foreman asked.

"You tell me – you're the one holding it." House shrugged.

"I know," Foreman mumbled angrily. He was bitterly aware of the death-cat squirming in his hand.

He walked back to House and Cuddy and dropped to the floor in front of them, to where the oversized golf-tee was stuck in the ground. He gave the cat a sedative injection and placed it on the golf-tee, pausing to make sure it had balanced.

"All done, House," Foreman grumbled before skulking away.

"Ok, Cuddy, remember what I taught you – don't let go of the club, just hit that cat, ok?" House coached from a meter or two away.

Cuddy nodded, acknowledging what he had said as she eyed up the cat in front of her – she just had to focus and keep the swing perfect to ensure maximum distance on impact.

She gently swung the driver back before swinging it forward, grinning as the cat soared through the air and landed far away on the other side of the green.

Foreman took in a deep breath and ran off in pursuit of the cat, closely followed by Taub, who was now wielding a whip as he carefully steered the golf-buggy.

"Faster!" Taub cried as they got further and further away from House and Cuddy.

"Well done, Cuddy, you've learnt well."

"I learned from the best." She said – oh god, how cheesy.

"Watch me hit Foreman on the head with a cat." House joked, pulling a cat from the sack and placing it on the tee.

He took the driver from Cuddy and shielded his eyes from the sun, adding up where Foreman was at the time, how fast he was going, and therefore where he would be when the cat reached him. Confident that he could hit his target, he swung the driver at the cat and watched it fly through the air, getting smaller and smaller until…

"Ouch, what the hell?!" Foreman cried, falling to the floor. Taub, who hadn't been paying attention, proceeded to run Foreman over in the buggy. Sensing a certain obligation to help him up, Taub jumped out of the buggy and stared down at his limp body.

"Foreman, are you alive?" He asked, nudging him gently with his foot. Upon receiving silence from the possibly dead Foreman, he followed up the nudge with a full-blown kick to the crotch. Still no movement – strange, he would have felt that.

"Is he dead?" House called to Taub.

"Yeah – he would have felt that!" Taub shouted back, referring to his kick.

Meanwhile, Kutner and Thirteen were sat by the edge of the green watching the whole ordeal. Watching Foreman run after a cat had been highly amusing, particularly when House hit him with another cat and he fell over. They were unable to hold back their laughter when Taub ran a death-check by kicking him in the crotch, and they both ended up in fits of laughter on the floor.

"Thank god I don't have to sleep with that thing again." Thirteen breathed, wiping the tears from her eyes as a wave of relief washed over her body.

"I'd hate to have to sleep with him," Kutner agreed with a grin. "I mean, I wouldn't obviously have to- because I'm a guy- and I don't like guys- I like women-"

"I know Kutner, its fine," Thirteen sighed with a roll of her eyes, smiling at the very embarrassed Kutner in front of her.

"So I was thinking maybe we should go help Taub destroy the evidence?" Kutner suggested, nodding towards Taub, who was attempting to drag Foreman's body across the green.

"Nah, just leave him to it," Thirteen dismissed the idea and they continued to drink their drinks and talk.

"I guess so… and it's more fun to watch."

Thirteen nodded at Taub, who was tying a piece of rope (where he had got it from she wasn't sure) to Foreman's foot.

"See? This is entertainment at its best."

Kutner leant back, setting a hand on the grass behind Thirteen's back.

"I wonder what he's going to do with that…" Kutner mused.

Thirteen frowned as Taub tied the other of the rope to the back of the golf-buggy.

"He's not just a pretty face – I think he's tying Foreman to the buggy."

"Should we stop him? I mean, as horrible as Foreman is…" Kutner shook his head. "Never mind, carry on."

Both Kutner and Thirteen watched as Taub climbed into the buggy and revved the engine, but all to no avail as the buggy didn't move an inch.

"Damn, Foreman is too heavy – how did I have sex with that thing?" Thirteen joked.

"I don't want to know. Did he drug you?"

"Probably – 'real drug' my ass, he probably took me off the placebo and dosed me so I'd sleep with him."

"That's what I'm thinking." Kutner agreed, before calling out to Taub. "Hey! Put it in second gear!"

Taub nodded and followed Kutner's suggestion. As he put it into second gear, he revved the buggy and slowly but surely it started moving across the green, Foreman's body trailing behind it, bumping over the grass.

"I never thought Foreman would die like this. I mean, I always hoped he would, but I didn't think it would actually happen."

"Absolutely," Kutner raised his Coke to Thirteen, "cheers!"

At another place in time, Cameron and Chase were having a serious conversation, but one of the couple was having a slight misunderstanding…

"I think we should raise a family," Cameron mused as she eyed up her shot. She had opted against using a cat though; she was against the idea of hurting the cats, even though – as Chase had explained to her – they were sedated and couldn't feel a thing.

"What?" Chase asked incredulously, but he was excited that she wanted to start a family with him.

"I think we should raise a family," Cameron repeated, "I think it would be really sweet."

"You… want to start a family with me?" Chase asked slowly, clarifying what she had said.

"Yeah," Cameron shrugged, "I'd love to have some little ones around the house."

"Wow! Yeah, I mean- yeah! I'd love to!"

"Yeah... are you up for it?" Cameron asked, confused as to why he was so excited.

"Of course, why wouldn't I be?" Chase questioned, furrowing his brow.

"Because I thought you hated cats," Cameron replied, going back to her shot.

"What? You meant- what? You meant cats? You want to raise a family of _cats_?" Chase asked, stumbling over his words in his disappointment.

"Yes, what did you think I meant?" Cameron laughed, looking at Chase. Upon seeing the crushed expression on his face, she realized what he thought she had meant.

"Oh, sweetie, you thought I meant dogs?" She asked tenderly.

"No, actually – I thought you meant a family!" Chase said loudly. She just didn't get it, did she?

Cameron laughed and patted Chase on the back.

"Sweetie, I'm not ready for kids, and if I was then I wouldn't want yours, would I? I have my dead husband's sperm for that!"

"What's wrong with my sperm?!" Chase cried, appalled at what she had said.

"Well… it's all… Australian," Cameron answered, shrugging.

"…And?" Chase inquired.

"Need I say more than that?"

"Is that why you won't sleep with me anymore?" Chase asked sadly.

"I thought we were clear about this - I won't sleep with you anymore because I am still in love with House and my dead husband."

"Then why did you marry me?"

"I married you because you have great hair," Cameron replied.

"Then why don't you want kids with floppy golden hair?"

"Because they'd end up with annoying Australian accents," Cameron shrugged.

"NO! They would have a mix of Australian and American accents!" Chase shouted, offended.

"That's even worse – that's essentially a diluted Australian accent."

"But what about my hotness – does that even matter? And what about my cancerless genes?"

"You're not hot, you're cute – House is hot."

Chase snatched the golf club from Cameron and threw it across the green, hitting Foreman's dead body as it was dragged along behind the golf-buggy (Taub had developed a new way of transporting the lifeless beast – by tying the body to the back of the buggy he found he saved a lot of energy).

"He's old!" Chase cried.

"But he's sexy – have you seen his stubble?" Cameron said, wiping the drool from her chin.

"Have your damn House then! He's not going to want you though, he's got Cuddy!" Chase said, looking over to House and Cuddy. Cameron followed his gaze and saw that House and Cuddy were laughing and hitting cats at Foreman's lifeless body.

"They'll get bored eventually, there's only so much chemistry a person can handle."

At this point, Wilson signified his presence and stepped in, with a none-too-pleased look on his face.

"Hey! Don't insult House and Cuddy! I spent ages trying to get them together; don't waste all my hard work!"

Cameron turned to face Wilson, having forgotten that he was there while she and Chase had been arguing.

"You wasted your own time; they won't last," she retorted.

"And you think you're not wasting all this time you're trying to get House to notice you? Look at him! He doesn't care about you!" Wilson shouted, gesturing towards House.

"Of course he cares about me, he said I'm pretty!" Chase and Cameron both cried.

"HE MIND-FUCKED CUDDY!"

At Wilson's words, Chase's face lit up and he broke into a happy grin.

"Hey – so did I!" He exclaimed.

"…Okay," Wilson replied, looking uneasy at what Chase had said.

Cameron looked at Chase and rolled her eyes. "And you wonder why I won't have kids with you."

"I can't take this anymore!" Chase shouted, storming off in a hump.

"FINE THEN!" Cameron shouted after him, throwing a cat at his head.

"AGH!" Chase cried, throwing the cat through the air and watching as it hit Foreman's now bloody and battered carcass.

"Don't hurt the cat!" Cameron whined.

"Oh shut up!" Wilson snapped, before letting out a shrill girlish scream. "Hey!" He whimpered, clutching his hands over his head as something large and furry collided with it.

"Sorry, didn't see you there!" House called.

"Good cover," Cuddy laughed.

"WHY. DID. YOU DO THAT!" Wilson shouted, charging at House.

House prepared the golf club and got ready to smack Wilson with it, but he was too late – Wilson tackled him to the floor.

"Idiots," Cuddy muttered, looking down at the two 'men' on the floor.

Wilson pulled at House's hair as they flailed about on the floor.

"Ouch!" House shouted, pulling Wilson's hair two times harder.

Had Cameron not stepped in at this point, the struggle may never have ended. She stood sheepishly beside Cuddy.

"Um, guys – where did Foreman go?"

The four people glanced around before spotting Taub by the edge of the lake, attempting to throw Foreman's body into the lake.

"Shouldn't we help him?" Cameron suggested.

Wilson shook his head. "No. Let's just watch..."

House stood up and brushed himself off. "I'm going to go help him – I've always wanted to throw Foreman into a lake."

"I'm going to go help too," Chase said.

"I'll stay here and take care of Wilson," Cuddy said jokingly, looking at Wilson who was stroking his now scruffy hair. Cameron, House and Chase all walked off to help Taub whilst Cuddy cooed over Wilson.

Taub dragged Foreman's body to the edge of the lake, panting breathlessly after just a few steps. House took a run-up and kicked Foreman in the crotch, grinning evilly as he did so.

He looked at Taub, who was wearing a 'what the fuck?' expression on his face.

"I saw you do it earlier," House shrugged, "it looked fun."

Taub stared blankly at Chase and House as he continued to try and drag Foreman towards the lake.

"Are you going to help me or not?"

Chase grabbed one of Foreman's feet. "House, get the other one!"

House followed his orders and they successfully managed to drag Foreman's body into the lake. They cheered from the side of the lake as the tide carried Foreman's body out, which surprisingly was floating instead of sinking.

A few moments later, House felt a hand slide into his, and he looked to his side to see Cuddy standing next to him, staring at the drifting body bumping over waves, and Wilson on the other side of Cuddy. At this point, Thirteen and Kutner showed up too, hand in hand.

Now my friends, sadly we come to the end of this story. As the sun set over the lake, and the group of doctors waved goodbye to Foreman's body, there were several lessons learnt.

Cameron learnt that Chase was indeed that man she was looking for, but he was not family material. Chase learnt that Cameron was a bitch, but he was now stuck with her. Wilson learnt that no matter how good a friendship may be, there would always be petty fights. Cuddy learnt that House was perfect for her, and that he had a great shot with cats. House learnt that the two kids that invented cat golfing were geniuses and should be thanked, and that Cuddy was awful at golfing. Thirteen and Kutner found love with each other, now that Foreman was safely out of the picture.

And of course, the only thing that_ really_ mattered; Foreman was never coming back, and that was all they could ask for.


End file.
